


Tell Me

by Chierei



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Humiliation, Lingerie, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Oral Sex, Power Imbalance, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:34:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25536679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chierei/pseuds/Chierei
Summary: “Tell me, Penguin,” the Don said, a cigar clutched between two fingers. “You ever been with anyone?”
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Salvatore Maroni
Comments: 29
Kudos: 83





	1. Chapter 1

He had finally proven himself to Don Maroni and became _more_. More than a no-name dishwasher, more than an upstart restaurant manager. It was when Oswald became important enough to be at his left-hand side, sipping expensive whiskey while the Don smoked a cigar and his men laughed and gambled around them, mistresses and girlfriends at their side as they threw back shots, that his real plan could start.

Everything Oswald had been doing had been to ingratiate himself to Don Maroni—everything from the awe-struck look in his eyes to the carefully contrived robbery. But for all Oswald’s plans and schemes and intelligence, he hadn’t anticipated _this_.

“Tell me, Penguin,” the Don started, a cigar clutched between two fingers. The cigar smelled of spiced tobacco and long tendrils of smoke curled out from the lit end.

Oswald had a half-finished glass of whiskey before him, the alcohol making him feel flush and light-headed. “Yes, Don Maroni?” he simpered, eyes ducked from where he was perched neatly at the edge of his seat. He tried to keep the smugness out of his tone, the mix of relief and self-satisfaction for the entire plot having gone correctly. It had been unlikely that it would have gone anything but—Don Falcone himself had allowed the hole in his security for the night—but it had still been nerve-wracking enough that Oswald had accepted the celebration drink wholeheartedly.

“You ever been with anyone?” the Don asked, blowing a lungful of smoke at Oswald. His posture was languid, his whiskey in one hand as he stared down at him. 

“Sir?” Oswald said, cocking his head to one side. He had to crane his neck up to see him, and he made sure to keep the submissive tilt to his shoulder.

“You know. With a woman. Or a man. Done the dirty. The horizontal tango, so to speak.”

Oswald could feel the hot blush rush to his cheeks. He— Oswald’s eyes darted around him, the shock making him fumble at any words. He managed to shake his head, eyes steady on the melting ice in his glass. No one around had turned to look at them—whether out of willful ignorance or pure apathy.

“So you a virgin, then?” Don Maroni said, and his voice was tinged with an edge of some emotion that Oswald couldn’t read. “Well, I’ll be damned. How old are you?”

“Twe-twenty-nine, sir,” he said, his hand curling against his thigh. He knew it was unusual at his age, but the opportunity had never come up. He had—for all of his mother’s concerns—never felt any particular attraction to women. And, well, his attraction to men had never been...important.

“Twenty-nine, eh?” the Don said thoughtfully after taking another drag. “Not gonna lie, I’m surprised. Fish Mooney has a, uh, certain reputation.”

Oswald nodded, hating the hot feeling that refused to leave his face. She did, as did her staff. Most of her workers doubled as escorts or prostitutes. And _Mooney’s_ was known to host all sorts of risque acts. When Oswald had first joined her staff, Miss Mooney had enquired about his preferences, and, not finding any use for a half-starved little runt like him, hadn’t ever bothered to use him for such carnal persuasions.

“Look at me,” Don Maroni ordered, tapping Oswald’s chin with the back of his fingers.

Oswald lifted his eyes, unsure of what the man wanted. He gasped, involuntarily, when he felt the man thumb his bottom lip.

Don Maroni took advantage of the gasp, slipping his thumb between his lips. His blunt nails hit his teeth, and it took all of Oswald’s self-control not to flinch. There was something dark, storming, building behind the Don’s eyes, a type of suggestion and want that Oswald was foreign to—the type of want that Oswald only knew of in stories and second-hand—and it made him tremble.

“Sir,” Oswald started to say—tried to say—only to be hushed by the man.

“Buh-buh, Penguin,” he said, pressing his thumb in deeper to his mouth to where Oswald could taste the salt and tobacco on his tongue. “Open up,” he ordered.

Oswald’s eyes darted to the side, self-conscious of the others around.

“Don’t worry about them,” Don Maroni said. “I want you to look at me.”

Oswald forced his eyes forward.

“Good,” he said. “Now, do I need to tell you what I want?”

Oswald blushed deeper and gave his head a small shake. He opened his mouth a little wider, taking in the man’s thumb and running his tongue over the skin. He closed his lips over the digit, sucking lightly. The shame shot through him like a bolt of lightning. He had never—it had never—

“Damn, you really are a virgin, aren’t you?” Don Maroni chuckled, pressing the pad of his thumb down on the center of Oswald’s tongue. “You seriously never sucked a cock before?”

Oswald’s silence was enough of an answer.

“Color me surprised, because I thought you had the perfect cocksucking lips. I bet you’d like real nice on your knees, wouldn’t you?” Don Maroni pulled his hand back, letting it linger on his bottom lip for a moment.

Embarrassment curled in Oswald’s stomach, almost hiding the small sliver of arousal that started to pool low. No one had ever spoken to Oswald like such—they were words that he had nary even considered to himself except perhaps in moments of weakness in the dark of the night when the urge to slip his hand into his underwear became too strong to resist. He would be lying if he said that he hadn’t wanted, hadn’t perhaps dreamed of one day having someone wrap him in their arms and whisper into his ear—to kiss him hot and heady and to feel a hand on him other than his own. But it had always been just that—a fantasy that he buried deep in his mind, layered over with practicality and shame.

Something must have shown on his face because the Don smiled, wide and toothy, before he barked out, “Oi, everyone! Out!” Oswald stumbled to stand, barely managing to shift before Don Maroni gave him a sharp look and said, “Except you, Penguin.”

The room was cleared out in record time, half-empty bottles and cards lying around on the table with the television set still set to an old black-and-white film. Oswald was still, like a deer caught in headlights, as the door slammed behind the last person and the sound of footsteps and chatter faded into the distance. 

“Now that we have a bit of privacy, why don’t you come on over here,” the Don said, patting his lap as he laid down his cigar on the crystal ashtray.

Oswald didn’t move. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, and while he knew he should follow the order, he felt as though he was frozen in his seat.

The Don rolled his eyes. “Do I need to spell it out for you? I said, come over heres.”

Oswald staggered to his feet and limped closer, yelping when the Don wrapped him by the waist and pulled him into his lap. He fell sideways, legs thrown over the arm of the chair with the man’s two large hands wrapped around his thin waist. He wrapped his arms around Don Maroni’s neck out of instinct to keep from falling back.

“You ain’t too bad looking,” Don Maroni said, running one large hand down Oswald’s side, feeling the shape of his body under his clothes. “A little scrawny, but that’s not a bad thing.” He shifted and groped boldly at Oswald’s ass, who squeaked and flushed. “But some nice cushion down here. Bet this ass would look nice under all your clothes and prissy manners.”

Oswald didn’t know what to say, so he bit his lip and didn’t say anything.

“Hey now,” the Don said with a smirk. “I just told you that you had a nice ass. Don’t I get a thank you?”

Oswald could feel his heart pounding, and he wet his lips. “Thank you, Don Maroni,” he said, trying to muster a smile.

“That’s more like it,” Don Maroni said. “Now, get up and show me that ass.” When Oswald didn’t move, he rolled his eyes and pushed him off his lap. Oswald barely managed to catch himself to keep from crumbling on the floor. “I said, show me that ass.”

Oswald turned around, still unsure what the man wanted.

The Don huffed. “I didn’t say show me the back of your pants. I said, show me that sweet ass of yours, Penguin. Actually, I want you to strip. All the way.”

Oswald turned back to the Don, wanting to protest, but the look in the man’s eyes made him obey. He moved slowly, trying to buy him more time or some way out of this—hoping that some emergency would come up—but time ticked by, and it was still just the two of them. He folded each piece of clothing as he took them off, keeping them in a neat pile that Don Maroni seemed to find amusing. It was only when he was down to his briefs that he paused, fingers shaking as they were hooked over the elastic band.

The Don rolled his eyes. “You keep making me wait, Penguin, and I’ll just rip it off you myself.”

The threat was enough. Oswald slipped out of his underwear, laying it on top of his clothes.

He hated this. He was standing naked in front of Don Maron, who was still fully dressed and smoking his cigar in slow, languid drags as he examined Oswald like a piece of meat. The power dynamics were obvious—Maroni wanted him to feel it, to know who was the boss.

Don Maroni made a twirling motion, and Oswald spun awkwardly, cheeks burning.

“Ah, there we go.”

Oswald heard the man shift and managed to suppress a yelp when two warm hands cupped his backside and squeezed.

“Now this is a pretty premium ass, Penguin. Who knew you were hiding this under there. Turn around.”

Oswald did, trying to cover himself with his hands but stopping when the Don made a sharp click of his tongue. He forced his hands to his sides and did his best to unclench his fists. 

“Not bad down here either,” Don Maroni said with a low chortle, reaching out and giving his cock a small tug.

Oswald hated how the touch made the very smallest spark of arousal shoot through him.

“On your knees, then.” The Don leaned back into his chair, seeming satisfied with his assessment.

Oswald dropped to his knees, carefully. His ruined ankle didn’t make kneeling impossible, but he knew if he spent too long, the pain would soon be unbearable.

The Don spread his knees apart, motioning for Oswald to get closer.

Oswald’s pulse was hammering in his chest as he moved, close enough that each of the Don’s massive thighs bracketed him in. He knew what was coming—he wasn’t that naive. His mind was racing. He knew that he should be trying to find a way out of the situation or do his best to take advantage of it. But even as he tried, every thought dissipated, overtaken by anxiety, confusion, shame, and arousal.

The Don motioned. “Well,” he said, “get on with it.”

Oswald swallowed but reached out. He undid the man’s belt buckle, trying to calm his shaking hands as he pulled the long length of leather out. The sound of the zipper was almost deafening in the otherwise silent room.

The Don was only half-hard when Oswald pulled him out, but it was already intimidatingly large. The smell, too, was different. It wasn’t unpleasant, but a type of musk that was unique.

Oswald pumped it a few times, gently, nervous, watching as the organ twitched under his fingers. A bead of pre-come leaked from the head, and Oswald leaned forward to give a kittenish lick to the head. It tasted like skin and salt.

Don Maroni groaned above him, and spurred on by the sound, Oswald opened his mouth to take more.

The cock swelled rapidly as Oswald took it deeper, running his hands up and down in slow pumps and running his tongue over the sides and head, until it was hard and dark, jutting almost obscenely out between the man’s pants. Oswald could barely close his fingers around it now, and his mouth ached when he tried to wrap his lips around it.

“That’s it,” Maroni said, fisting Oswald’s hair and forcing his head down.

Oswald choked, not expecting the motion, and tried to pull away. Maroni allowed it, and Oswald backed off, eyes stinging from tears and coughing. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and he wished he could take another moment, but he didn’t want the man to get impatient.

Oswald tried again, taking a deep breath and trying to work the large cock down his throat. It hit his gag reflex, and Oswald tried to suppress it, eyes watering.

The Don’s grip on his hair tightened, but he didn’t force Oswald deeper.

Oswald bobbed his head, using his hands to pump whatever his mouth couldn’t reach, and tried to make it as good as he could. The Don liked it when he almost choked, he found, or when Oswald looked up at him as he sucked his cock. It made him feel ashamed, as he watched the Don watch him through watering eyes.

“That’s it,” Maroni murmured, petting Oswald on the head. “I knew you had a good cocksucking mouth on you. All them pretty words meant that you were made for this.” He pushed Oswald off, who took a few gasping breaths.

He felt the warm, velvet length hit him on the cheek, and he blanched.

The Don grinned and slapped him again with his cock. It was smooth and warm and didn’t hurt, but it _burned_.

Oswald felt humiliated and tried to push back any tears.

The Don snapped, standing himself up and motioning Oswald to follow.

Oswald scrambled to his feet, wincing at the ache his leg gave him. He almost stumbled, but the Don caught him by the elbow and steadied him.

“Oh, ho,” Don Maroni said, looking down as Oswald’s arousal which had been building the entire time. “Guess you get off on being used like a good cocksucker, after all. What a treat.” He stroked himself a few times, his thick fingers wrapped around his thicker cock. Seeing it now, at a distance, only enhanced how intimidatingly large it was. “Hands and knees on the couch.”

Oswald obeyed, hating and loving and wanting and wishing. He heard the man walk away, and he wondered for a moment what he was doing, hearing the sound of drawers and cabinets opening and closing from the small kitchenette in the safehouse. When the heavy footsteps returned, he returned his gaze to stare at the frayed couch, the ragged brown suede that he was going to lose his virginity on.

Don Maroni gave a whistle. “Now ain’t that a sight. Perky little ass all ready for me.”

Oswald shuddered when he felt the large hands again, gripping each of his cheeks and spreading them apart. He flushed, dropping his face into his arms so he could bury his face in his arms.

One finger touched the edge of his hole, and Oswald startled, instinctively trying to get away, only to be held down by one firm hand on his head and the other on his lower back.

“Nu-uh,” the Don said. “Where do you think you are going? I’m going to fuck you nice and good, Penguin.” He forced the tip of the dry finger in, and Oswald closed his eyes tight at the burn and pain. Then, it retreated. “But, I ain’t no monster.”

There was the sound of a jar opening and then the faint smell of coconut. When the finger returned, it was slick, and even though it hurt when he pressed it in, it wasn’t unbearable. Oswald kept his eyes closed, trying to focus on his breathing, as he felt the man’s long, thick finger press into him.

The Don chuckled, thrusting the finger in and out. It stung, a strange sort of pain, but it mostly made him feel uncomfortably full. Then he was empty, and he had a moment of reprieve before he felt two fingers press into him. He bit his lip, willing for his body to relax, but it stung. When a third finger joined, he could help the groan of pain that came from his throat. It hurt. Even with the lubricant, it felt like sandpaper against his insides that was slowly pulling him apart. His entire body felt hot and aching, it hurt it hurt it hurt, and he was so hard, and he didn’t—

Oswald wanted to give a sigh of relief when the fingers retreated, but he knew what was coming next.

“You pretty tight back here, Oswald,” Maroni said, and Oswald could hear the sound of oil being smeared over himself, the obscene slick of a cock. “You ever finger yourself?”

Oswald shook his head, not looking up and hoping he could bury his shame. “No, Don Maroni.”

The Don chuckled. “My lucky day then.”

Oswald felt the press of his cock at his hole, and he tried to stay calm. But he couldn’t help but tense, body wanting to reject the foreign intrusion. When the tip popped past the first ring of muscles, Oswald couldn’t help but cry out, fingernails clawing at the couch cushion. “Don, sir,” he managed to say. “It hurt, please, it can’t.”

The Don only laughed and held him in place. “And it’ll hurt more if you struggle.”

Oswald tried to stop, but the pain of him being split open, the feeling of being stretched by the large cock of the older man, made him desperate. “Please, sir, it’s too big. I can’t.” He tried to wiggle away, and all he got for his effort was the weight of the man on his shoulder blade, locking him in place. “Please,” Oswald tried again, words clumsy in desperation. “Please, sir, take it out. It’s not going to fit, please.”

The Don had obviously had enough of his complaining because, in response, the man just pressed in deeper in one swift movement.

Oswald screamed at the sudden movement. But it didn’t matter, as the Don continued to push deeper and deeper, until Oswald could feel his pelvis hit his backside, the scratch of his pubic hair against his ass. Oswald’s crying had settled down into quiet whimpers by the time the man was fully sheathed.

“Damn, you are looking good,” the man said, out of breath. “Took that entire cock like a champ. Wish you could see how good you look like this.”

Oswald didn’t answer, just tried to breathe as he curled his hands into the cushion. His neck was starting to ache from the angle, and his knee hurt, but none of it could compare to the feeling of a cock inside him, the stinging pain.

Maroni pulled out, and Oswald managed a sigh of short relief before he slammed back in.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” the Don said, panting as he fucked Oswald in long strokes. “And I’m going to wreck that pretty little hole of yours for the next man.”

Oswald privately thought that there wouldn’t be a next man and didn’t answer.

But the Don talked enough for the two of them. “Fuck, I knew you’d be good. I’ve wanted to fuck you since I saw you as a little nobody. Thought that mouth of yours looked the best choking on my cock, and here you are like a perfectly trained whore.”

Oswald crushed his eyes shut. The pain was slowly subsiding, down to a dull ache as his body got used to the sensation. And he hated that the words made his arousal stir again, hated that even with the pain, he couldn’t help but spread his legs a little wider. He gasped when Maroni reached around, fondling his half-hard cock.

“And what do we have here?” the Don said, amused. “Looks like you really are a slut. Man, I don’t know if anyone else has gotten this hard this quickly. Usually, it takes a bit more coaxing, but you are a natural, Penguin. Fish Mooney didn’t know what a treasure she had all this time, huh? Had she known, she probably would have had you taking cock every day, huh?”

Oswald bit his lip, trying not to moan as Maroni coaxed his cock back to hardness. The pain was still there, but it had slowly ebbed away, making way for the trickle of pleasure.

“Let’s see now,” Maroni said, and then shifted, putting one leg down on the floor so he could change the angle.

Oswald gasped as he felt the man go deeper and brush against something that made a spark of pleasure shoot through him.

“Oh yeah, there we go,” Maroni said.

Oswald moaned, softly, hating and loving it at the same time. The man kept pumping him, rough and almost to the point of pain, but that only made Oswald harder. He didn’t notice when he started pushing back against the Don’s thrusts, rocking his back and forth as he chased the feeling. All the while, Don Maroni kept spewing a string of obscenities, and each word made Oswald groan and whimper and push him that much closer.

“That’s it. Take it. Take my cock, baby. This is your place. Facedown and ass up to be ready for my cock.” The man’s words were coming out shallower. “Fuck I’m going to come. Gonna come in this tight ass of yours.”

The final few thrusts were discordant and jarring, and Oswald’s legs felt like jelly when the man finally came with a loud groan. He pumped himself in and out shallowly as he rode out his orgasm, and Oswald could feel the wet squelch of his come. When he pulled out, Oswald breathed a sigh of relief. He could feel come drip out of his hole and down his thighs, and he felt so empty. And he was still painfully hard.

Maroni didn’t leave him hanging.

Oswald groaned when the man slipped two fingers back into him and pressed against his prostate. Oswald gasped and stroked himself, rocking himself back to fuck himself on the man’s fingers. It only took a few more strokes before he came, almost sobbing as his orgasm wracked his body.

“Pretty damn good,” Maroni said, half-breathless as he patted Oswald’s backside.

Oswald laid there, keeping his head buried in his folded arms. He hurt everywhere—his leg burning with the ache of muscles and his backside stinging and clenching. The feel of cold cum dripping out of him made him shiver. He forced himself to breathe before he sat up, wiping the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand.

Maroni was already leaning back against the chair, still clothed with his cock tucked back in his pants. He had relit his cigar and raised an eyebrow at Oswald. He offered him his half-full glass of whiskey, the scent smokey and sharp.

Oswald took the offered glass and shakily took a sip, eyes never leaving Maroni’s.

Don Maroni smiled, satisfied. “Good boy.”


	2. Chapter 2

One of the good things that came after was that Oswald became one of the Don’s clear favorites. He had already had the man’s ear and trust with his little whispers of Falcone’s secrets, but now the Don likes to keep him close at hand for more personal reasons. It came with its benefits--being able to see and hear every little secret coming and goings--that was worth what it cost him.

Oswald ran his tongue down Don Maroni’s cock. He knelt between the man’s legs, which quickly became a familiar position in the last weeks, as the Don murmured praises as he ran his fingers through Oswald’s hair.

Oswald lapped at the leaking head of the cock, the familiar salty taste of pre-come filling his mouth as his hands worked themselves up and down the engorged length. He had gotten better at this over time and could fit about half of the cock down his throat, but even then, he still had to work the remaining inches with his hands.

And the Don liked to see him choke on his cock some days, watch him drool and gag as he struggled to take him deeper. Today was luckily not one of the days—the Don was content after receiving some good news about his newest shipment and allowed Oswald his leisure when it came to pleasuring him.

“Looking mighty fine there, Penguin,” he murmured. He fisted Oswald’s hair and pulled him off his cock, forcing him to arch his neck as he took a few gasping breaths of fresh air. “And to think, just last month you were a blushing virgin. And now here you are, on your knees like a desperate slut.”

Oswald has learned to suppress his shame, push past the embarrassment, and allow practicality to overrule his actions. So, he nodded. “Yes, Don Maroni,” he said, breathless and panting.

“Buh, buh,” the Don said, pressing a finger to Oswald’s lips. “What did I say about that?”

Oswald felt the heat on his cheeks. “Yes, Daddy,” he amended, feeling his own cock twitch.

“That’s a good boy,” Maroni said, running his thumb over Oswald’s bottom lip.

Oswald suckled at the digit, wrapping his tongue around the taste of skin and salt. He still half-hated how something deep in his chest preened at the words, but the last month had taught him to pick his battles. There were far worse things that could be possible, so he leaned back down to place a kiss at the tip of his cock. He opened his mouth to lathe his tongue at the slit, tasting his pre-come before swirling his tongue around the head. His leg was already starting to ache, but Oswald was getting used to it--the Don liked him kneeling most days, sometimes forcing him to sit at his feet through meetings. It was as degrading as it was arousing.

Most of the time, the Don was a generous lover. It was a common sight for Oswald to be at his side, sharing a drink while Maroni ran a meaty hand up and down his thigh. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind what their relationship was like, not when Don Maroni would occasionally pull Oswald into his lap or feed him bites from his own plate. More than once, Oswald had been fed bits and pieces of luxuries from the Don’s hand, a pampered pet for a powerful man.

Oswald choked when Maroni pressed down on the back of his head, eyes watering as he held his breath until the man allowed him back away. He had enough time to fill his lungs with a large breath before he opened his mouth again, eagerly sucking the Don’s cock back in his mouth.

The Don cursed, tossing his head back as he pet Oswald’s hair. “That’s it,” he said, “I want your slutty little whore mouth to take it all.”

Oswald hummed in pleasure. He could feel his cock strain against the fit of his pants, and he pressed the heel of his palm against it. He moaned around the Don, swirling his tongue as he twisted his head to take him deeper and ignoring the way it made his eyes water as he tried his best to work past his gag reflex.

A knock sounded at the door.

Oswald startled, automatically shifting to back away. The head of Don Maroni’s cock had barely slipped out of his mouth when the Don placed a hand back onto his head, stopping him from moving. Oswald shot him a confused look.

“Continue,” he ordered, tangling his fingers into Oswald’s hair. And then louder, “Come in.”

Oswald felt a rush of shame, humiliation, and arousal run through him as the door opened even as he opened his mouth to continue pleasuring the Don. He didn’t look up to see who it was, not wanting to know who had to see him like this--on his knees with a cock in his mouth like a common whore. Worst of all, he hated that he didn’t hate it as much as he should.

“Sir,” someone said, and Oswald could feel his face burning up as he recognized Frankie Carbone’s voice. But he continued, bobbing his head up and down as he sucked at the Don’s cock, even as his right-hand man watched. “Should I come back later?”

“Nah,” Don Maroni said, and Oswald could feel his fingers carding through his hair. “What is it, Frankie?”

“Angel said that the drop-off is set. Marie is taking Bianca and Alex with her.”

Oswald could see Frankie out of the corner of his eye against his will. There was nothing to hide him from sight--and he knew that the man could see him, mouth wide and sucking a man’s cock, and it made his arousal pool low in his groin. He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to pretend that he was alone, even as he moaned softly as he bobbed his head. He wanted to touch himself, take his aching cock in his hand, and he hated himself a little for the urge.

Maroni made a non-committal noise. “Anything else, Frankie?”

There was a pause, and then, “No, sir.”

“Let me know when it’s done.”

Yes, sir.” Footsteps, and then the door shut, and Oswald tried not to breathe a sigh of relief.

Maroni forced his head up, tugging at his hair to crane his neck back. “You look disappointed, Penguin,” he said, fisting himself so he could trace Oswald’s swollen lips with the head of his cock. “Were you hoping that I’d let Frankie have a taste of you?”

Oswald flushed and shook his head. “No, sir.”

Maroni slapped his cheek with his cock. “Do I need to punish you again, Oswald? I thought we had this talk already.”

Oswald bit his bottom lip, averting his eyes. “No, Daddy.”

“Better, but I don’t know if I believe you. Seemed like you got a little hot and bothered with Frankie watching you suck my cock.” Maroni shifted his leg until the tip of his wingtips was pressed against Oswald’s clothed groin, making him moan. “Were you hoping I’d make you crawl to him? Beg him to let you suck his cock?”

Oswald tried not to rut against the pressure against his cock as he forced down his embarrassment. “No, Daddy.”

Maroni huffed out a sound that was half-a laugh. “I don’t know if I believe you, Penguin. Sluts like you are insatiable. Always looking for some more dick, right?” He fisted his cock, pumping it slowly.

Oswald’s eyes couldn’t help but trace the movement, and he licked his lips. He couldn’t deny that he enjoyed the feeling, the edge of pain, that came with sucking cock.

The silence didn’t go unremarked, and the Don huffed out a chuckle. “That’s what I thought. How about it, then? How’d you like it if I called Frankie back in here so he can suck his cock will I fuck you good and hard? I bet you’d like that.”

Oswald didn’t know what to say, not when the Don’s shoe pressed harder against his cock, not when the idea made his body feel hot.

“You like that, do ya?” Don Maroni said, eyes dark. “I bet you’d look real good passed around. I don’t usually like to share, but you are special, aren’t you, Oswald?”

Oswald whimpered. “Please, Daddy,” he said, not sure what he was asking for. He didn’t know if he was asking him to stop or continue, didn’t know if he liked the idea of being used by the Don’s men, spread open and fucked for everyone’s enjoyment. The thought terrified him, but his breath quickened from more than fear.

None of which went unnoticed by Maroni. “Tell me what you want, Penguin.” He tapped the head of his cock against Oswald’s lips, and Oswald couldn’t stop his tongue from snaking out and lapping at the tip.

“I want you,” Oswald said.

The Don raised an eyebrow.

Oswald forced past the shame. “I want Daddy’s cock inside me,” Oswald tried again, unable to believe what he was saying.

They seemed to be the magic words, though, because they caused Don Maroni to finally abandon what control he had. He grabbed Oswald by the biceps and pulled him up into his lap.

Oswald folded himself expertly onto his lap, straddling his massive thighs. He automatically leaned in to kiss him, and the press of his lips against the older man was comforting. The Don was a good kisser, and the feeling of being so completely dominated by him, even with something as simple as a kiss, made Oswald groan and try to press himself closer.

“You like that?” Maroni muttered against his lips, one large hand reaching down to squeeze his ass.

Oswald squeaked but offered a shy smile and nodded.

“You do what I told you to do?” he said, and his words were rough and demanding.

“Yes, Daddy,” Oswald said, breathless as pressed himself against Don Maroni.

“Prove it to me.”

Oswald stood, legs wobbling from arousal. He shrugged out of his suit jacket, laying it carefully to the side before he undid his tie. Finally, he pulled off his top, revealing the white lace bralette underneath. Maroni’s eyes felt hot on his skin as he pulled off his pants, revealing the garter belt and white lace panties that cling to his hips.

He hadn’t known what to think when the Don had handed him the package the night before, but he had warmed up to it quickly enough. He had been half-hard all day just knowing that he had been wearing it under his usual suit.

Maroni twirled his finger to motion him to turn around.

Oswald did so, bracing himself in the desk with his arms as he bent over.

“Show me.”

Oswald reached back and pulled aside the underwear, revealing the end of the crystal plug buried in him. He could feel his hands shaking, and he gasped when the Don pressed against the plug, making it shift.

“That’s a good boy.” Maroni murmured, palming one of Oswald’s ass cheeks. “You’ve had it in all day?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Oswald said, squirming. The squeaked when he got a hard slap on his cheek in punishment, and he forced himself to still.

He swallowed as he felt Maroni hook two fingers around the flared base and _pull_. He gasped as he felt his body give and stretch. The toy popped out of him with a lewd squelch of lube, and he could feel his body clenching at the air.

“That little hole of yours sure is hungry,” Maroni said, spreading Oswald open with his hands, hooking his thumbs into him.

Oswald forced himself to breathe. He could see his cock protruding from the front of the lace panties, hard and leaking and making a vulgar sight.

“Did you touch yourself last night, Penguin?”

Oswald nodded. He had. He had bent over in the shower, slicking up his fingers as he had tried to reach that spot inside himself while he muffled his moans into his arm.

“How many fingers did you get inside you?”

“Three,” he said, remembering the ache of his arm as he had tried to press them deeper inside him. How it had felt so good, but it hadn’t been what he wanted.

“Bet that wasn’t enough, was it?” Maroni slapped his ass, the sound loud and cracking. “I bet this slutty hole wanted something more, yeah?”

Oswald didn’t answer. Instead, he tried to push his ass back to take the Don’s fingers deeper.

Maroni slapped his other cheek. “I asked you a question, slut. I asked if your fingers were enough.”

Oswald shook his head. “No, Daddy. It wasn’t. I needed more,” he gasped out. He had. He had wanted it, had thought about how good it felt to be stretched open and how dirty it made him feel, but how he had still gotten up this morning and slipped the toy into him. How he had sent a note to Don Falcone even as he wore the plug and lingerie that Don Maroni had bought for him, pouring wine for Don Maroni’s capos while knowing he’d be bent over before the end of the day. “I wanted your cock, Daddy.”

“This cock?” Maroni ground his cock against Oswald’s ass, the hot organ making Oswald mewl.

Yes, yes, yes. Oswald nodded, panting as he arched his back.

“Beg for it.”

“Please, Daddy,” Oswald said. “Please fuck me with your cock. I want it inside me.”

“Inside you how?”

“Please put your cock in my ass, Daddy. I want to feel you, please. I’ve wanted you all day, please, please.” Oswald felt like sobbing, but he wanted--needed--to feel that glorious moment where nothing mattered except the feeling of being fucked, that moment where he felt lightheaded and blissful and--

The press of his cock never was easy at first, even after a month of being taken on a regular basis. He forced himself to relax as Maroni spread his ass in his hands, taking a few deep breaths. He made himself exhale through the first breach as the Don pushed through.

“Fuck yeah, baby. You are still so tight even though I’ve been fucking you every day.” Maroni said as he bottomed out. “You should see how good your ass looks, spread out on my dick.” He pulled out all the way, and Oswald moaned at the feeling of the head of his cock scraping against his rim.

When the man didn’t put it back in, he whimpered. He wiggled his backside shamelessly, the way he knew the man liked and begged. “Daddy,” he whined.

Maroni teased his hole with the head of his cock in response, pressing the tip against the furl of muscles. He’d pushed it in an inch or two, and Oswald moaned, trying to push his ass back to take more. And when the man withdrew, Oswald whined, high-pitched and needy.

“So greedy,” Maroni said, teasing him again with the head of his cock. He grabbed Oswald roughly by the hair, forcing him to arch his back further to the point of almost pain, but it only made Oswald more desperate. “Such a greedy whore,” the Don murmured. “My greedy little whore.”

Oswald keened. “Please, Daddy. Please give me your cock. I want it, please.” He screamed when the man thrust into him, bottoming out. And it hurt, fuck it hurt, but it felt so good to be split open on it. Maroni was so big, so thick, and it always felt so good--that edge of pain and pleasure that made him dizzy. He needed--he tried to fuck himself on the organ, twisting to gain leverage so he could take him deeper.

“That’s it. Fuck that tight ass on my cock. That’s how you want it, huh? That’s it, move that ass up and down like a good slut,” Maroni said, and his voice was a low growl, guttural and primitive.

Oswald moaned, trying to gain purchase to fuck himself faster but unable to with the spread against his skin and the twist of his ankle. “Please, Daddy,” he begged, not hiding his desperation. “I can’t---I need--”

“I got you, baby,” Maroni said. He set one large hand on the small of his back. And then thrust forward, pushing Oswald against the edge of the desk. He could feel the corner bite into his thighs, but it was overridden by the sensation of being fucked and owned.

Maroni fucked him in long, fast strokes, the desk shifting with every thrust, and Oswald’s incoherent begging as he tried to hold himself up.

“Please, yes, yes,” he babbled, reaching between his legs to try and stroke himself off in time with the thrust. It wasn’t long before he came with a scream, spurting long strips of come over his fingers and only the desk.

Maroni wasn’t done yet, and the man pounded into him, grunting as he worked himself to orgasm. Oswald was so sensitive. He could feel the ache of his hole, as the man used him like a toy, taking pleasure in his body, and the thought only made him moan and spread his legs wider.

Don Maroni finally came with a grunt, and Oswald whimpered at the wet feeling as he emptied himself into him. “Fuck, yeah,” he said, hips coming to a shaky stop as he finished. He pulled out abruptly and forced Oswald down onto his knees. “Now, clean me up.”

Oswald opened his mouth, wrapping his tongue around the man’s softening cock as he licked the remaining come off of him. He could feel his hole still twitching, clenching at the air, and come dripping out of him, soaking into the edge of the lace that he still wore.

“That’s a good pet,” Maroni said, running a clean hand through Oswald’s hair. “Now, what do you say to me?”

Oswald pressed a kiss against his cock. He felt debauched and exhausted, the shame starting to return as it usually did, but he knew the right answer. “Thank you, Daddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There wasn't supposed to be more to this story, but I guess I lied. Oops! The daddy kink lover in me jut decided to come out and play. There might be two more parts of this, but no promises! As always, you can come scream with me either on [Tumblr](http://chierei.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Chierrei)!
> 
> If you can, please take a moment to drop me a comment to tell me what you thought! <3

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a not-so-secret fan of Maroniwald, and sub!Oswald feeds my soul. It was only a matter of time before I wrote my own. <3
> 
> If you enjoyed, please take a moment to drop a comment with your thoughts! It'll feed me as I work through my Oswald-fucks-all-the-men series. And as always, you can follow me on [Tumblr](https://chierei.tumblr.com) if you want more updates on my work!


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